Something's Gotta Give
by Pears
Summary: Oliver likes to be naked. This poses a few problems for Percy. PercyOliver slash.
1. Chapter 1

Percy was never one to openly express himself. He could never afford to. Percy wasn't deaf; he knew full well what people thought of him. But he wasn't about to risk expulsion for apparently needless glairing and snapping at nearly the entire student body.  
  
"Alright there, Percy?"  
  
Percy glanced over the rim of his book. "Fine."  
  
"Quidditch was hell!" Oliver commented offhandedly, and began to strip down to his skivvies, making his way towards the showers.  
  
Percy eyed Oliver's pile of muddy, rumpled clothes on the floor. "I don't suppose you're going to pick those up?"  
  
Oliver grinned. "I don't suppose I will. I'll be out in two shakes, promise."  
  
Percy resisted the urge to take a good look at Oliver's perfectly sculpted backside.  
  
"Damn that boy for being a living Greek statue." Percy muttered, feeling his groin tighten. Over the years, Percy had found that Oliver . . . well . . . enjoyed being in the nude. He enjoyed it a bit too much for Percy's liking . . . not that Percy didn't enjoy it, mind you. Just that it didn't help that Percy was a raging homosexual, and Oliver was the epitome of heterosexual.  
  
"He should invest in a sign." Percy thought bitterly. "Hello, my name is Oliver. And I'm Straight. In fact, I'm so straight, a ruler doesn't even compare to me!"  
  
It has always been said that the really great guys were either gay, or they were married. Percy thought that was all bullshit. The fact of the matter was, that it really, really sucked to be gay.especially if your roommate of five years was charming, handsome and had a body that was worthy to be-  
  
"Did you miss me, love?" Oliver teased, prying the book from Percy's grasp, flashing Percy one of his oh-so-charming feline grins . . . and then some.  
  
"Would you PLEASE put some clothes on?" He said, not meeting Oliver's gaze. What he had really wanted to say was: "Would you PLEASE make love to me?"  
  
"Oh but why? I like being naked." Oliver was practically purring. "You should try it sometime, Perce."  
  
Percy suppressed a moan, deep in his throat . "I'll pass."  
  
Oliver shrugged. "Suite yourself." Oliver sauntered over to the side of his bed, and began to dress.  
  
"He should be bronzed . . . " Percy thought.  
  
"I'm sorry, did you say something Perce?" Oliver regarded him curiously as he proceeded to pull a fitting dark blue sweater over his head.  
  
Percy wasn't aware he had said that aloud. An awkward silence passed between them.  
  
"Shit." 


	2. Chapter 2

"He should be bronzed . . . " Percy thought.  
  
"I'm sorry, did you say something Perce?" Oliver regarded him curiously as he proceeded to pull a fitting dark blue sweater over his head.  
  
Percy wasn't aware he had said that aloud. An awkward silence passed between them.  
  
"Shit."  
  
*  
  
"You said something earlier, Perce. What did you say?"  
  
Percy was in utter panic. "N-Nothing . . . it-it was nothing," He stammered, he inwardly cringed at the hysterical note in his voice. "Really, Oliver. It was nothing. Just drop it."  
  
Oliver quirked a brow. "Funny . . . could have sworn you said something about being bronzed." He said, slowly making his way towards Percy's bed. And were his . . . oh, dear . . . Percy noted with both a combination of delicious anticipation and mortification, that Oliver's hips swayed as he walked. Damn him! DAMN HIM TO HELL!  
  
What nerve! The bastard had heard him. He KNEW he heard him. He just wanted to be smug.  
  
Oliver chuckled, positioning himself above Percy. "I'd be more then happy to indulge in your little fantasy, Perce, but-"  
  
"I know," Percy murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'd love to indulge in your fantasy, but I'm not a pouf-"  
  
"Perce-"  
  
"Don't." Percy held up a hand to silence him. "Just . . . just don't."  
  
"Percy," Oliver said, firmer, this time. "I wasn't going to say that at all, you silly faggot!" Oliver smiled affectionately, taking Percy's face in his hands.  
  
Percy glared, upon being called a silly faggot. "Fine then, what WERE you going to say?"  
  
"I was going to say, if anyone, it's YOU who should be bronzed." He spoke intimately in Percy's ear, nuzzling him.  
  
Percy's eyes were satellites. "But . . . but I thought-"  
  
"You thought, nothing! You think FAR too much, love." Oliver said huskily. "Far too much."  
  
"Oliver?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Would you . . . would you like a kiss, then?" Percy asked, not meeting his gaze.  
  
"Oh, Percy . . ."  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

"Damned Mountain Troll . . . " Percy muttered. Percy had been working extra hours ever since that Mountain Troll incident just a few weeks before.  
  
Percy was always rewarded by the long hours spent, warm and safe in Oliver's bed. Oliver. Percy felt a giddy wave of euphoria course through him, and he quickened his pace, desperate to get back to his-  
  
"Going somewhere, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
Percy was pressed against the wall; he squirmed in eager anticipation as he felt his arms meet the wall above his head.  
  
The figure in the dark grinned. "Expecting to meet someone?"  
  
Percy's brown eyes rounded with innocent surprise. "If I am, it's none of your business."  
  
"Touché. Now," The figure purred, pulling Percy close with his free arm. "Come up stairs, and GET in my bed."  
  
"And what is it you want with me?" Percy asked, managing to keep his voice steady.  
  
Percy's question was cut short. He responded to the kiss whole-heartedly. He moaned, but it was quickly swallowed, and the kiss deepened.  
  
"I want to make love to you," The figure murmured between kisses, his voice thick with arousal. "I want to make love to you . . . slow . . . and sweet." He paused, trailing kisses along Percy's jaw line and neck. "I want to shout into the sky that my heart belongs to Percy Weasley!" He moved back to Percy's mouth. "I want to make poetry out of you-"  
  
"That'd better be a promise!" Percy beamed.  
  
"Shut up." With a soft growl, the figure caught Percy about the hips, pulling him into another soft, yet powerful kiss.  
  
"WEASLEY! WOOD! WHAT ON EARTH!?"  
  
Oliver and Percy lingered a few moments more, before facing a very flabbergasted Professor McGonagall.  
  
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!? I DEMAND AN EXPLINATION!"  
  
Oliver smiled coyly at her, finally letting Percy step away from the wall. "Terribly sorry, Professor," Said Oliver, giving Percy a sidelong glace as he came up beside him. "But I'm afraid I just couldn't keep my hands to myself," His smile broadened as Percy's gaze met his. "He's such a hot little thing, after all."  
  
Percy blanched, scandalized. "Oliver!"  
  
McGonagall pursed he lips, biting back a smile. "Be that as it may," She said humbly. "I suggest you both return to your common room. It's after your hours, Mr. Weasley, and YOU," She said, fixing Oliver with the best glair she could conjure. "Shouldn't be out of bed at all. Now off you go!"  
  
"Yes, Professor." Percy said respectfully, stepping past her, followed closely by Oliver who only gave a nod of affirmation.  
  
Percy gave a yelp, as Oliver gave his backside a good pinch, chuckling as Percy took off a few steps ahead of him.  
  
McGonagall looked on long after the pair had disappeared around corner.  
  
"I want to make poetry out of you?" She let out a laugh. "Honestly!"  
  
Fin  
  
Note: This entire chapter was inspired by this pic by Francois Diable (  
  
Click the linkie! C'mon, you KNOW you want to! ^^ (copy and paste) 


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